


When The Lights Go Out

by geetrick



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: 60's ish AU, Bob is a shit cop, But whatever, Gabe and Elisa have killed bitches, Happy Ending tho, M/M, Pete breaks things and leaves condoms everywhere, a lot of mobsters, angst toward the middle?, detective!Patrick x witch/singer!Gerard, please read it tho, this entire thing is on fire/crack tbh, uh, witchcraft and gayness is all around and very illegal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 01:46:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14843250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geetrick/pseuds/geetrick
Summary: When Patrick gets assigned to investigate a cabaret that is allegedly the home of illegal magical activity, he knew it would be hard to fight against something he agreed with. It gets harder when he falls in love with one of the performers.





	When The Lights Go Out

Smoke curled up from the captain's cigarette like ghosts rising through the dead of night. He brought it to his lips and took a drag, his gaze boring into Patrick and Bob's skulls like a dagger. Patrick nervously shifted his eyes to the captain's desk. He'd never quite liked that man. He could understand him wanting to intimidate his detectives, but Captain Leto took it way too far.

He spit a blackened piece of gum in the bin on the floor, making Patrick jump at the rattling sound it made. His eyes coldly examined the two, as if trying to read their thoughts.

After a long, uncomfortable silence, in which Patrick heard every time his heart thumped against his ribs, Captain Leto finally opened his mouth to speak, "A new case just opened up for you two."

"I already have one. I think Patrick does too." Bob looked a lot calmer than Patrick, who was pretty sure he was going to give himself a heart attack just from standing in Captain Leto's presence. Bob rolled his eyes when he saw him shaking like a dog beside him.

"I'm aware," Captain Leto said, playing with one of the pens on his desk, "but this is important. I can reassign your cases to someone else, but I need my best detectives on this case."

See? He called you his best detective, Patrick told himself, sweating underneath his uniform. And, yet, he could never stop being terrified of the captain. Maybe it was because he could still hear his old joke echoing in the back of his head: "No fags on my squad." It was just a joke, he meant to say "pansies", and, even then, Patrick couldn't shake it. Every time he stepped into his office, the thought bounced into his mind; someone had ratted him out, someone had seen an ex flame or a one night stand crawl out his window. He didn't have many one time flings; he didn't see much appeal to sex without emotion, but he still feared people finding out when he did have them. There was always the chance...

Bob snapped his fingers in front of Patrick's face, "Wake up, dumbass." Patrick quickly murmured an apology and bowed his head to the ground.

"Anyway," Captain Leto continued, "one of our informants has reported rumors of an illegal cabaret somewhere in the south side of the city. He says that they are, and I quote, 'hiding witches and all the other indecent folks inside.' I need you two to find out if these rumors are true, and, if they are, take them down."

"Um," Patrick felt his voice crack in his throat, "sir, with all due respect, I'm not sure I can do this."

Captain Leto shook his head, "Don't be ridiculous. You can handle it. I have faith in both of you. Tell you what, I know you have a lot on your plate already, so I'll give you tonight to think about it. If you don't want it, I'll give it to someone else, and you can return to the...what was it? Missing dogs case?"

"Thank you, sir." Bob stopped Patrick before he could even speak. Captain Leto shooed them out with his hand and turned his attention to the stack of papers on his desk.

"I can't believe you don't want to take this case," Bob said as soon as the sir closed behind them.

Patrick walked to his desk, sorting aimlessly through the papers in front of him, "Really? What couldn't you believe?"

"That you couldn't see how amazing this case is." Bob grabbed Patrick's arm and forcibly turned him around, "Patrick, you can take down a coven of witches. JPD hasn't successfully done anything about all the witches in the city for the past ten years. Just think about what you could do."

"Destroy people? Listen, Bob, I don't care about your opinion on witches, but I already told you mine. I don't care about them. I think we should just let them live their lives, with or without magic."

Bob sighed, "You don't get it, do you? Witchcraft is illegal for a reason. It's dangerous and inhuman. The more witches we get rid of, the better."

"That's what you think..." Patrick muttered and twisted his arm out of Bob's grasp.

"Well, I'm taking it, whether you want to or not."

Patrick stopped in his tracks, "And, if you do find the cabaret, what will you do?"

Bob shrugged, "I dunno. I'm probably just gonna turn every last one of those sons of bitches in for us to burn."

Patrick's stomach did a back flip when Bob said "burn." He knew for a fact that Bob wasn't kidding either when he said that. Witchcraft was punishable by death in the city. Bob would probably burn a few of them personally.

"You should join me," Bob said, after Patrick didn't respond to  what he'd said. "I think it could be a lot of fun, just like all the other cases we've worked together."

Fun? Patrick thought. You mean me playing the good cop to your bad cop? You mean you going against all the good I've ever wanted to do in this world? Yeah, that sounds fun.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Home," Patrick told him, walking toward the elevator. "My shift is over."

"Oh," Bob said, but Patrick was barely listening anymore. "At least say you'll think about the case."

"I will," Patrick lied as the elevator closed, sealing him away from all of his stress and anxiety.

-

Patrick awakened to a loud crash from outside his bedroom. He sat bolt upright in his bed, his heart beating like a drum in his chest. There was a scuffling noise coming from the kitchen, like someone was going through his things.

"Pete? Is that you?" Patrick called out, feeling himself break out in a cold sweat.

The shuffling paused. Several long, tense seconds passed before he heard Pete yell, "Yeah. It's me."

Patrick sighed in relief. He found Pete in the kitchen, sitting on the counter, drinking a glass of milk, and waiting for his bagel to toast. A plate was lying shattered on the floor.

"I'll find a way to pay you back, don't worry," Pete told him.

"It's fine," Patrick said. He sat down on the counter next to him. Pete had a tendency to just waltz his way into Patrick's apartment out of the blue. Patrick didn't mind. If his coworker didn't bother to barge in every other day, he'd be spending a lot more time alone than was healthy. "Is your landlord still watching you?" he asked, trying to fill the silence, which was made even more powerful by the surrounding darkness.

"Yeah. He's just digging for a reason to kick me out." Pete had been on the verge of being evicted since his neighbor had heard him and Gabe together one night, and reported him.

Together, they watched the dial on the toaster turn. Pete was still in uniform from earlier, although he had undone the tie and shoved it into his pocket. He had bags under his eyes and his hair was falling into his face from beneath his cap.

"When was the last time you slept?" Patrick asked.

Pete shrugged, "I don't remember."

"That's not a good thing." The toaster went off, and Patrick watched Pete slide off the counter to get his dinner. "Are you gonna stay here tonight?"

"Yeah, thanks." He looked down at his feet. "Also, if you wouldn't mind, Gabe wants to see me again on Tuesday after work, do could you do me a favor and...?" he trailed off.

"Stay away for a while? Sure thing. The couch is all yours."

"Thanks." Pete spread the cream cheese on the bagel in much larger amounts than needed. "How was work today?"

Patrick sighed, "It was okay. The captain wants me to take a witchcraft case."

The knife Pete was holding clattered to the counter, "Seriously? Doesn't he know that you're pro-witchcraft or whatever?"

"He does, he just doesn't see it like that." Patrick pulled his knees to his chest. "He wants to put Bob on the case too."

"Bob?! Patrick, you can't let this happen?!" Pete leaped back onto the counter and shoved one of the bagel halves in his mouth, "He'll destroy them!"

"I know," he said, exasperated, "but, if I take it, I'll help destroy them. If I don't, I'll just leave them to die."

They sat in silence for a long while, the only sound being Pete chewing. After what felt like an eternity, Pete finally spoke again.

"You know, it doesn't have to end like that."

Patrick narrowed his eyes, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Pete took another bite of his bagel, "You could take the case and mislead it. You could send Bob off in one direction, you go in the other, and, in the end, you lie and say you found nothing."

"That's actually not a bad idea," Patrick said. "But how would I do that? I'd need an entire false lead for Bob to follow."

Pete thought for a moment before saying, "You could ask Gabe for help. I could probably get him over here tomorrow."

"I don't know. Are you sure involving the mob is a good idea?"

"Patrick, you've had sex with at least three mobsters, I don't think you can get much more involved than that."

"No," Patrick argued, "Elisa wasn't a mobster, and I only blew that other guy, I didn't actually have sex with him."

"Actually, no," Pete argued back, "Elisa was a mobster, and she threatened to have me killed at least three times. And you blowing William did count as sex, you just don't want to admit it."

"Blowjobs don't count." Patrick rolled his eyes, "The only mobster I ever slept with was Gabe."

"Yeah, and he showed up here in a pinstripe suit and it took you two hours to figure out he was  in the mob." Patrick could swear that Pete was trying to be annoying at this point.

"He didn't exactly keep the suit on very long."

"Hey, I'm just saying!" Pete threw his hands the air. He had finished the rest of his bagel and was cleaning up the ceramic shards on the floor. Patrick yawned.

"Fine. I'm gonna go back to bed, I have an early morning tomorrow."

"Goodnight!" Pete called after him as he trudged sleepily back to his room. He passed out almost immediately when his head hit his pillow, barely giving himself any time to reflect on everything he had to do the next day.

It can wait, he thought to himself. This case probably won't even matter in a couple months anyway...

But, just like he had been about his first impression of Gabe, he was wrong.


End file.
